


Friends Will Be Friends

by CedanyTheBold



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hate mail, I don't know what possessed me to write this and I am a terrible person, I'm sorry Freddie, Racism and Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8575690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CedanyTheBold/pseuds/CedanyTheBold
Summary: When Freddie gets a threatening letter, he tries to keep it to himself. But his friends find out and help him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeesh...I'm on a roll with the depressing stuff. This time, our poor, dear Freddie is the victim of my penchant for angsty whump. 
> 
> So sorry, Mr. Mercury. I love you, honest. 
> 
> I've never written a real person fic before, hopefully this turned out okay. 
> 
> Come to think of it, RPFs are kinda weird anyway...

Freddie examined the envelope he’d found on the doorstep. There was no postmark and no address, merely his name. His given name, at that. He was quite certain that no one outside of the band, his family, and Mary knew. He’d certainly never told anyone else. To the public, his name had always been Freddie Mercury.

He felt a hint of trepidation as he tore open the seal—was there something inside that could harm him? But all that was inside was a single sheet of paper folded in half. He flipped it open and began reading. Almost immediately, his confusion gave way to shock.

He’d gotten scathing reviews from the press. He’d gotten nasty letters from people who hated his music. He’d been yelled at and called names by passers-by on the street. But that was nothing like this. He’d never thought anyone would stoop this low. Of course, he thought, he meant nothing to whoever had written this. He wasn’t a _person_ to them, merely some idiot rock star. If even that, judging by the tone.

Shaken, he sank down in a chair, holding the letter between trembling fingers. He knew that this was probably just some stupid teenager playing a prank, but still…

There was always that _what if._

In all the time he’d been famous, he’d never really feared for his safety before. He scoffed at himself for being such a baby. It likely _was_ just some stupid teenager looking to get a reaction out of him…well, they’d succeeded, he thought. Not that they’d ever know.

He hadn’t even finished reading it. There was a whole second paragraph. He wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to read it, but figured what the hell. _Wonder what else this charming person has to say to me_ , he thought.

He steeled himself and looked at the paper again. His dark eyes grew wide as he read, his heart leaping into his throat and staying there, hammering away. Freddie no longer cared if this was a joke, he was genuinely afraid for his life now. And to top it all off, this anonymous little fuckwit had peppered the whole thing with all manner of derogatory epithets. He knew now exactly what he was to them—a dirty, queer immigrant bastard who never should have landed on England’s glorious shores and poisoned its youth with the devil’s music. He’d never felt so degraded in all his life. His heart backed its way out of his throat and sank.

Freddie sat in silence, mind abuzz with a million different thoughts. Firstly, he had to calm down—panicking wouldn’t do him any good. He dropped his head into his hands and wondered what in the hell could possess a person to write something like that to someone they didn’t even know. Didn’t they know how much it could hurt? Or did they just not care? He knew he was being naïve, but in his mind, people just shouldn’t _do_ that. To _anybody_.

Oh. Right. He wasn’t a person. He was on par with shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

He sure as hell felt like shit, at any rate.

                                                ***********************************

Freddie’s demeanor did not go unnoticed. The next day at rehearsal, he was visibly distracted. The other three noticed something was off right away, but decided not to pry. Freddie liked his privacy, but if it was something important, he would tell them. He had probably just gotten in a tiff with someone, that was all.

As they neared the end of rehearsal, however, Freddie became more and more agitated. At one point he was shaking so much he couldn’t even hit the right keys on the piano. And then suddenly, mid-song, he just stopped and sat there, completely rigid, not even blinking.

“Fred?” asked Brian. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, his inflection short and sharp, as if he’d been holding his breath. Which he had. “Just…feeling a bit off today, is all. Hangover or something.”

Roger snorted. “Bullshit,” he said. “We’ve seen you hung over. You puke all over the place and then beg for aspirin.”

“Oh thanks, Rog.”

“It’s true,” John affirmed. “Jesus, I don’t think David’s forgiven you yet for what you did to the loo at that party of his awhile back.”

“Not. Helping.”

“Well, what is it, then?” asked John. “Otherwise, we’re just going to keep at it.”

Freddie sighed and reached into his jacket pocket. He didn’t know why he’d kept the letter; he should have burned it.

“It’s this,” he muttered, handing it over to Brian. “Found it yesterday on my doorstep. All that was written on the envelope was my name. Someone must have just walked right by and left it there.”

Brian’s eyes went back and forth as he scanned over the scathing document.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed at last.

“What?” asked John. “Freddie?”

“Well, one of you has read it, the rest might as well!” snarled Freddie, crossing his arms.

The letter was passed to John and then Roger, eliciting responses of “Oh, _fuck_.” and “Holy shit!” respectively.

“Jesus, Freddie, why didn’t you mention this earlier?” asked Roger.

“Figured it wasn’t anybody’s business,” shrugged the frontman.

“We know you like your space,” said Brian. “But this…I mean this is serious. This is a _threat_ on your _life_ , Fred! You should have rung the police or something, not stuck it in your pocket like it was a ticket stub!”

“Do you honestly think anyone would believe this?” he asked, visibly shaking and drawing his arms tighter around himself as if it would ward off whatever threats would come his way. “I’m sorry, it’s just…they left this on my fucking _doorstep_. They know where I live. I don’t…I don’t want to go home. Not alone. Can one of you lot come with me?”

“We’ll all come,” said John.

“And we’re calling the police,” Brian insisted. “Don’t try to talk us out of it.”

Freddie nodded.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “Let’s be off then, shall we?”

                                                                **************************

It was a clear night. Freddie sat in the window seat, the glass slightly chilly against his bare arm as he looked up at the sky. They’d called the police, as Brian had said they would, and given them the letter and all the information they possibly could. He and Roger had gone home, but John had stayed behind and was now dozing on the couch.

Freddie heaved a sigh of relief. It was an enormous weight off his shoulders just to have that wretched letter out of his hands, and an even bigger comfort to know that his friends had been there to help him. He had honestly expected them to laugh at him, or to tell him condescendingly not to worry, they got things like that all the time. He always felt he was so different from them. They were on one page, and he on another, at the complete opposite end of the book.

Still…it was nice that he could be surrounded by people he could trust. People who cared.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add Mary into the story. It seemed fitting. 
> 
> Ok, mostly this is just gratuitous fluff. I like fluff.

The next morning, Freddie awoke in bed. He must have staggered upstairs at some point during the night. He wondered if John was still sleeping on the couch. Before he could really get his thoughts together, the phone rang jarringly, breaking the silence of early morning.

A voice from downstairs told him that John was in fact still there. He could only just barely make out what he was saying.

“ _Uh-huh…don’t know…Brian didn’t mention it?”_

Brian didn’t mention what? he wondered.

Before long, footsteps came up the stairs and John knocked on his door.

“Morning, sunshine,” he drawled as he poked his head in the room. “Sleep all right?”

“Mmf,” came the muffled response from under the covers.

“You’d better have. I had to practically drag your arse up here last night. You were half-asleep in the window seat going on and on about how you were keeping watch ‘cause _I_ was asleep.”

Freddie sat bolt upright in bed. “ _W_ _hat_?”

John opened the door and leaned against the frame. “Mary’s going to be on her way over soon. Think you’ll be all right if I head out?”

Freddie swiped at his face, exasperated. “Oh, fuck, you told _Mary_?”

“Brian did. He figured she should know.”

“Well, he didn’t have to go worrying her…”

John sighed, “She’s coming over to keep you company. We figured you still didn’t want to be alone, and I can’t stay here all day…”

The frontman crossed his arms and leaned back on the pillows, aggravated.

“I don’t need a bloody nursemaid!” he griped.

“I _know,_ ” John spat irritably. “Look, Freddie,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to get angry…you’ve had quite a scare. I understand. None of us would want this to happen. I didn’t _tell_ her to come over, she _offered_. She wants to make sure you’ll be okay.”

Freddie threw back the covers and got out of bed. “Great. Just fucking  _great_. What exactly did you tell her, that I was pissing myself in fear?”

“Just that you were a bit…on edge.”

“Wonderful,” he rolled his eyes. “So she expects me to be a quivering mess.”

“No,” John replied, although from what he could tell, that was exactly what Freddie was at the moment. He knew he was trying to hide it, and he didn’t say anything, but he had the feeling he’d fall apart once Mary was there. Freddie trusted her more than anyone else. She had been there for him even after their breakup, when he’d told her the truth about him.

“Anyway,” he said. “You should probably get cleaned up.”

“I suppose,” Freddie agreed, grabbing a towel and sauntering off.

                                                                                **************

Mary showed up while Freddie was still in the shower. John answered the door, raking a hand through his hair.

“Look…ah…I think you should know, he may not be the most…agreeable,” he said. “He didn’t want us to tell you. Practically bit my head off when I told him you were coming.”

“Well, what did he expect?” Mary asked, somewhat annoyed. “Brian told me because he thought I should know. I came over because I _wanted_ to, not because you asked me.” She stepped inside and took off her coat. “And besides, it’s Freddie. You and I both know he doesn’t really mean it when he gets like this.”

“That’s exactly what I told him,” John concurred. He knew she was right. Freddie was a force to be reckoned with sometimes, but he was really a sweet guy at heart.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Upstairs, in the shower.”

“Why don’t you head home, I’ll keep an eye on him.” she said, settling herself in a chair and picking up a magazine on the table. “You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

“I haven’t, really.”

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know you will,” he said, as he headed out the door. “Thanks.”

A few minutes after John left, Freddie came downstairs, pulling on a t shirt.

“Oh! Mary, I didn’t expect…” he lied. Very badly, too.

“Freddie…” she said, standing up to face him. “Don’t be angry. I want to help.”

He stared at her, his eyes like fire. “Well, there’s nothing you can do. It’s already been taken care of.”

He crossed the room and threw himself on the couch, staring pointedly away from her and looking very much like a petulant child.

There. Just there. She saw it, the small quiver of his lips that meant something was wrong. She came over and sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Freddie?” she asked softly.

Something inside him broke. How could he have thought that she wouldn’t want to help? She was his best friend. She’d been there for him even after…after…

Well, after _that_.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his arms to his lap and crossing them over his knees, looking away. “I know you mean well, darling.”

“Why didn’t you want them to tell me?”

“Because,” he sighed. His next words came out in a rush as he stared into the middle distance, never focusing on any one thing. “I didn’t want to worry you. I don’t want you to get mixed up in this if something _does_ happen. I only told them because they could tell something was wrong and…I was just so afraid. What if some nutter _was_ going to be lying in wait for me? Brian thinks I’m an idiot because I told them the next day. I didn’t want to get _anyone_ involved if I didn’t have to…the guys made me ring the police, and I didn’t think _they_ would believe me. They’d think I was just some high-strung, drug-addled…”

“Shh,” Mary soothed, rubbing his shoulder. “But you’re not. I know that.”

He let out a shaky breath and leaned into her, eyes still not meeting hers. “You didn’t even _see_ the letter…well, I’m glad you didn’t see it. It was horrible. I mean, I know that kind of stuff happens, but I guess I just never expected it to happen to _me_ …”

Mary nodded in reply. Freddie may have been on top of the world, but he hadn’t gotten there easily. He had told her of his background when they had first started seeing each other, and how people had hated him for it…he had expected her to hate him, too. But he was so shy and gentle, with her and everyone else, that she couldn’t help but love him. She knew _him_ , not who he pretended to be onstage, and not who anyone who knew of his heritage or sexuality thought he should be. Freddie was Freddie, and there was no one else on earth like him.

“You know it’s not true, what they said about you. Don’t you? Brian told me what it said…I hope you don’t mind. But you know he didn’t believe a word of it. I mean, outside of the threat. And neither did Roger or John. Do you think John would have stayed here all night if he didn’t care?”

“I know,” he muttered, his voice growing thin and wavering. “But it just…it _hurts_. It really hurts. I try to keep that stuff private for a reason,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s…it’s one of those things that you don’t understand how bad it can be until it happens to you. I feel like I’m not even _human_ anymore.”

He shuddered and turned away, but Mary knew he had begun to cry. She felt a pang of hatred and anger towards the person who had done this to her Freddie. She reached over and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He drew a breath and turned back towards her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and hugging her tight.

“Oh, _Freddie_.” she whispered, nuzzling his hair.

He sobbed, unable to control himself any longer. He was a pretty tough guy, but even tough guys have their breaking point. She let him cry, occasionally rubbing his back or murmuring a word of comfort. Maybe after this he’d start to feel like his old self again.

He, for the record, had never been so embarrassed in all his life. But he just couldn’t help it. He’d managed to keep himself together that first night, and he’d managed not to break down in front of the guys, but at the same time he knew it was coming. Sooner or later, he would have burst into tears.

After those first few moments, he broke away and hid his face in his hands. He knew he was ugly; he didn’t even want to think about what he looked like while crying.

Eventually, he calmed down to the occasional sniffle. He hated to admit it, but he did feel better now. He didn’t know if that was weakness or not, but in the moment, he didn’t really care. Passing a hand over damp eyelids, he smiled.

“Thanks, Mary.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you liked it! I really have no experience writing RPFs and I don't know a whole lot about Freddie's offstage personality (other than that he was apparently very shy), but hopefully I wasn't TOO off.


End file.
